Coming to Terms
by kkurtenbach5
Summary: Charlie is figuring out how to deal with the loss of basically everyone in her life after shutting down emotionally for months. She hadn't imagined that Bass would be the person she would turn to. In fact, she never thought to imagine that he would trust her at all. - Charloe (Chapter 8... it starts Chapter 8)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First fanfic so please be nice.. It started in a place of venting as Charlie, and kinda morphed into Charloe accidentally. Word of warning, I kinda swap between present and past tense because I'm not used to writing in first person, but it seemed right in this case. Right now it's a one shot, depending on what happens next week that could change. Anyways, reviews are always welcome.**

"He killed my son!," Rachel (maybe I should call her mom?) screamed at Miles for the hundredth time, who gave her the same apologetic look he gave her every time she hit him with that. I couldn't take it anymore. I left. Granted, I told my guys, four now, first so I would be followed at a respectable distance as I wandered aimlessly away from the camp. With my bottle of whiskey.

_Two hours later..._

My mom was so focused on my brother, and now Miles. This walk was not a good idea. Especially not with a full bottle of whiskey. Which is my last one. All it's doing is making me focus on everything that I had been running away from. Again and again the scenes played through my head. Mom leaving, Dad dying, Maggie dying, Nora dying... Oh god, Nora. She would be nice to talk to right now. I needed her, or just someone who I could trust.

I didn't know what was going on with my mom, I just know that every since I came back, she was trying. But now all Miles is interested in is her... and I just don't know. Is it selfish of me to want them to focus on me for a little bit? Really, I know my mom had been on a bender, but she wasn't there for all those times for ten year. But she was protecting us. But they asked for dad. And Miles was there. But if she hadn't gone than we wouldn't have had Maggie (god I wish that I had appreciated her more.)

And for god's sake can she not mention Danny every time someone mentions killing the kids that have been turned into killing machines. I mean seriously I know that she is our mom, but she left. And Dad and I raised him until Maggie. I watched over that kid like he was more important than I was. Because he was. To everyone it seemed. Except maybe Maggie. I just. Danny's dead. And he's not coming back. I felt the sob in my throat and swallowed it. Crying about him wouldn't bring him back anymore than it would before Nora had died.

Okay let's get on something else. Can't cry in the open. I need to think of someone else.

Miles. He keeps saying that he doesn't trust Bass. No Monroe. He doesn't trust Monroe. But for some reason I keep on finding myself fighting side by side with Bass or Connor while Miles is somewhere with my mom. Fuck I meant Monroe. It's Monroe. Not Bass, Monroe.

And I'm going in circles. I stopped briefly, checking for patriots, and decided to fuck it. Just keep going. I'll be somewhere when I get done. And whichever mercenary that was following me could bring me back. Or I'd just track myself. It apparently wasn't hard. I mean, Monroe did it _easily_ (according to him.) Well that was

_One hour later..._

I should probably start to find my way back. It's starting to get dark, and while it's hot as balls in the day its absolutely freezing at night. And I'm not even walking straight at this point. Where the fuck am I?

Before I go back though, what the fuck is up with Monroe. Yeah, I screwed his son. Thought it was funny. Just a scratched itch. I will never tell Bass it because I kind of wanted to screw him. Ever. And now since I screwed Connor that would never happen anyway. I think. Is it wrong for me to still want him. Bass. Then I said it out loud. Then I said Monroe. Rolling the words over my tongue. Smoothing them out. I did it over and over, trying to pick which to call him. And then I heard a stick snap behind me.

"Yes?," an amused looking Bass.

"How long have you been following me?," I slurred haphazardly. Stumbling.

"The whole time. I saw your guy leave camp. Didn't know he was following you until I caught up with him. But I sent him back to camp a few hours ago."

I just stared at him.

"Well, why were you saying my name?"

"I'm trying to decide what to call you."

He's staring back at me like I'm crazy. Hell I probably am. I'm supposed to hate him.

"Well?," Bass asked.

"I. Bass. I'm going to call you Bass now. I mean, I trust you with my life. I should be calling you your first name at least. And since your first name has three syllables, Bass it is."

He gave me a funny look and turned away. "So, you ready to head back?," he said while glancing back to me. Then the ground shifted under my feet.

"Jeez, Charlie," he muttered, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet, "did you finish that whole bottle?" 

"Not yet," I said, happily. The warm buzzy feeling that had surrounded me for the past few hours was still going strong, and the sloshing sound I heard as he pulled me up backed up my statement. As soon as I was on my feet I swayed slightly, leaning against him. "Wanna help?," I smirked up at him.

Bass face ran from confused to angry. "Really Charlotte? You were in bed with my son less than two weeks ago. And now you're hitting on me?"

I pushed away from him. "Just tryin' to be friends. And I just fucked him cause he was there, but I didn't think that I'd have to justify myself to you.," I said, staring at him, "Why do you care about that? It's not like I stole your favorite sword or something," I added, grumbling under my breath.

"Why do I care? I care because I'm supposed to keep you safe." Bass' eyes started to water, their clear blue boring into my own. It felt like he could see into my soul. Thoughts raced through my head. "I care because I need you... to fight with. I need someone I trust."

"What about Connor?," I questioned, suddenly needed that answer more than I needed to breathe.

Bass exhaled laughingly, "I don't know if I can trust him. And I sure as hell have done enough to make him not trust me. I need someone who can look past that."

"And you decided that this person was me."

"No you did. I know that you will probably never be able to forgive me, but you'll fight by my side. I trust you to come back for me. And I need someone who'll do that."

I'm not sure what to think. I think that we trust each other. He's right. I probably won't every forgive him fully, but I know that I can work with him. I know that he'll save me. And maybe I can keep Bass grounded. Maybe. He'll fight for me, treat me as an equal, and right now that's good enough.

"Okay."

I reach out my hand and we shake. He turns and we walk side by side back in the direction of the safe house.

"So next time you need to get away, can you try to do that closer to home base? 'Cause this is going to take a while," Bass grinned over at me as we fall into an easy pace, "and goddammit I've walked enough in the past week to last me a lifetime"

"Yeah I can do that," I laughed, passing him the bottle. It was going to be a long walk.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So I was inspired and wanted to get them back to the safe house. I say I was bored but I really just didn't want to do my homework. Shhhh. Don't tell.**

Our walk was uneventful. In both the worst and best kind of ways. I'm used to his silence. I enjoy his silence. I know how to react to his silence. But I know that I was doing more than deciding what to call him for a three hour walk into the wilderness. We kept passing the bottle back and forth, Bass making sure that he was sober enough to get us back (hopefully quietly, as drunk as I am getting there at all is an achievement.)

He kept glancing over at me. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he looked liked he wanted it to. He wanted me to talk. To open up. But he was never going to ask; maybe he already had. I thought back to that day in the pool.

_God I had hated him. When I woke up he was standing there all smug baiting me the way only he could. And he was looked way too amused for my taste. And he looked remorseful, but it was Monroe. He was a monster..._

A branch hitting my face slammed me back to the future.

"You alright there Stevie Wonder?," Bass asked, laughing at the reference that he knew I wouldn't understand. I glared at him.

"I think so," tentatively feeling around my face, checking for injuries. "Just bruising probably."

"So what caught your attention to the extent that you ran into a tree?," Bass drawled, obviously wanting the answer to be him.

"I don't know, maybe I was wondering how long it was going to take to get to the fucking safe house thing."

Bass actually laughed then. Thank god my buzz was strong enough to not care what I was saying. "You're the one that walked all the way out to bum fuck nowhere. You walked 20 miles. Which is actually impressive for how much you were stumbling and circling at the end. And you are the one that isn't telling me why you decided to go that far."

"I was angry. And had to get away for a while. Sometimes I just can't handle Rachel. My mom. I meant my mom," breaking off awkwardly.

"You, me, and half the fucking population, Charlie," Bass laughed, "I understand. _Completely._ But twenty miles. That's something else."

I stopped walking, my eyes watering as all the emotions I had been feeling before swept back through me. Bass kept walking for a few more steps before realizing I had stopped and half turning back towards me.

"It's just, when she talks about how hard Danny's death was for her, I get so angry. Because she left us. And I was supposed to keep him safe. I was in charge of him. He was my _everything. _If I had been watching him my dad would be alive. It was because of me that he was taken. And …." I trailed off again as my tears overflowed, slipping down my cheek.

"Charlie... I" Bass stuttered, obviously not knowing what to say. "I never meant for them to die." He said, looking like he wanted to get swallowed up by the earth. I know how guilty he feels about what he's done to my family and he probably couldn't handle this conversation either, but I'm drunk and I can't hold it in anymore.

"Calm down Bass, I don't blame you," I said looking at him, adding muttering under breath, "at least not anymore." I started again, "I obviously blame myself. You can relax. I don't hold you directly responsible. Dad was killed by Tom, and Danny chose to fight. He was killed by a helicopter pilot. Not you. And if you hadn't started the militia, there would be so many things that would have worked out differently. Maybe we would have died in a raid. But we could have all been dead anyways. It's amazing anyone lasts as long as they do anymore."

Bass was apparently speechless again because he didn't say anything. For a long time. I don't know how long we were standing there, eventually the tears stopped. I felt his eyes boring into the top of my head, but I just stood there with my head hung. I could look him in the eyes yet. Then I felt Bass' big arms wrap tightly around me. I looked up into his eyes, and they were watering. "Thanks Charlie. For forgiving me. I don't think that I can, so that you did that's...," he trailed off.

I smiled warmly up at him, sniffling and wiping my eyes while returning his hug with my other arm. "We are a pair aren't we?"

Bass laughed. "Well, that's one way to put it." He gave me a squeeze before releasing me.

We turned together to go back to the camp, immediately back in sync. I felt better, with someone knowing how I felt. I hadn't been able to confide in forever. I just needed that. And I felt like we were in a place where we were friends now. Not just partners.

"Where's my bottle?," I asked him frowning briefly.

"I put it in my pack. Do you need it?," Bass said, looking somewhat confused. We did just have a heart to heart after all. Well, on my part anyways.

"Na. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't drink it all. And I do want it back."

"What don't trust me?," Bass said smiling.

"With that? Nope," I returned his smile. He laughed back at me. And flipped up the top of his messenger bag to retrieve my whiskey.

"Here." He said, offering my now three-quarters empty bottle. "I have more back at the safe house anyways." He smiled again, his dimples coming out and automatically causing me to reciprocate.

"Well, you are going to have to share. This is my last bottle, and I distinctly remember there being at least half left when you found me." I said, not able to wipe the stupid grin off my face."

_One hour later..._

We walked back into camp in the dead of night, only a few hours before sunrise. One of my men was keeping watch while everyone else slept. I nodded at him as we past, no doubt smelling like my whiskey and no doubt scuffed up from our 40 mile trek. I saw Bass glance over to where Connor was sleeping, making sure he was okay. I looked over to where Miles and my mom weren't. God they thought they were so sneaky. Idjits.

We each collapsed onto empty bedrolls. I'm telling myself that it just happened that they were right next to each other. I smiled at the back of Bass' heady right before I slipped softly into unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So this happened today. In other news, I still have homework. Turns out writing doesn't help you finish your engineering homework. Who knew?**

I woke slowly. I searched around myself groggily. Bass was gone already, but I was still facing his bedroll. I stretched myself completely, from my toes to the top of my head raising my arms above and twisting around. Sufficiently loose, I rolled to get up in search of something to eat.

Surprisingly, despite how much I had drunk the night before, I didn't feel that hungover. The walk must have done some good. From the height of the sun in the sky, it looked to be about eleven in the morning. Guess it would be lunch then.

««»»

I found Connor in the designated "kitchen."

"Make me something why don't you?," I asked him with a grin, my tone sassy.

He smiled back at me. "Already did, but you'll have to eat quick, 'cause we're moving camp soon. I just going to come get you."

"Where to?" This development was completely new to me, but I guess I did spend last night wandering around the surrounding desert for nearly 8 hours. From what I can recall, through my haze, while I had walked "nearly 20 miles" as Bass had so helpfully pointed out, I had only ended up about 15 miles from camp. Still, that was a ways.

"Just a couple miles from here. There's an old farmhouse that Miles and Rachel found yesterday. Your men can stay in the barn and-" 

I cut him off. "Are they okay with that?"

He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows, like I had said something odd. "Yeah, I think so."

I nodded, reminding myself to ask them later. They were put in the middle of a situation that they couldn't control, which was my fault. I didn't have to make it so difficult for them to fight.

Connor continued only after I waved him on. "Your family and mine," he glanced away and paused for a second, "are going to be in the farmhouse. There's a lot of rooms, so I think we can all have our own. Definitely if your mom and Miles share."

I grinned wryly at him, an expression he returned readily. We both knew that they would. Now if they would only talk about their relationship with me. Granted, neither of them had been back in my life very long, but I assumed that being a few of my last remaining blood relatives actually meant something. It appears I may be wrong.

I grabbed the hunk of bread and salted meat that he held out for me before turning. "Thanks," I said over my shoulder as I walked away to gather my things. I also wanted to find Bass, see if he had been serious about teaming up with each other.

««»»

I found him by my bedroll, rolling it up; obviously after rolling up his own.

"So, how did you sleep?," I asked as I walked up to him. Stooping to grab my pack and my crossbow. He must of seen the question in my eyes as he looked up at me. He looked me straight in the eyes before nodding pointedly, not wanting to say anything in front of the others.

"Not long enough," he said before grinning, holding out my bedroll. I returned his smiles and grabbed it from him to secure it in the buckles on the bottom of my pack. Bass moved to secure his own. Most of my guys were just finishing gathering their things also. Apparently Miles had taken one of them with him to the new safe house while I was asleep.

As a group we all headed out towards the new camp. Connor took the role of scouting ahead again, while my men spread out in a group. Bass walked about ten yards behind Connor with Jonas, one of my men who was more light on his feet. I caught snippets of their conversation. Enough to know it was about something called AC/DC. I was walking next to Mikey, the youngest of the my men, though still a few years older than Connor. He was telling me about hunting techniques. Though I was a naturally skilled tracker, there was always room for improvement. Dean and Sam were walking behind us, Dean being the black guy that evidently had been the highest ranking member of my guys.

About two miles after we left our old camp, Bass drifted back from his place by Jonas to walk next to me. Taking the hint Mikey went up to walk in between Jonas and us. Dean moved up to walk next to Jonas, leaving Sam to bring up the rear.

Bass started talking easily, "This would be so much easier if I hadn't walked 35 miles last night."

I just smiled as I looked on. "Hey I didn't ask you to follow me. But I'm sure that if it was one of them they would've dragged my ass back to camp before I had gone ten," I said while gesturing around at my men. That got me a laugh.

We walked on in silence for a while. "I wasn't sure if you would remember in the morning, but you're sure you want to be on my side in this?," he asked me under his breath, obviously hoping Sam and Mikey wouldn't hear. I could see Mikey cock his head towards us and knew that despite Bass' efforts Sam could probably hear us too. I nodded firmly.

He looked unsure then. There was a question in his eyes. He kept looking away and then back at me.

"Spit it out," I murmured, leaning in towards him. Again, I was sure at lest some of my men could hear us. Thank God it wasn't Dean. He had already heard enough when Bass had pulled his stunt about me sleeping with a Monroe.

"Why did you sleep with Connor?"

We didn't get to talk about it last night. At least this time he wasn't being cocky about it. I figured that Connor was far enough away for this conversation to be at least semi okay to have. With that though, I didn't really know why I did it. I didn't regret it, but I wasn't too sure about the decision anymore. Connor looked at me differently now. Not especially in a bad way, but with more familiarity than I was used to. Without even trying to put my conflict into words, I merely shrugged and responded with, "I don't know."

The look he gave me told me what I already knew. That was not a satisfactory answer.

"Okay look; it had been a while, there was an itch that needed scratching. Your son is cute and after what happened on our way to Willoughby the first time, I don't necessarily feel safe picking up strangers. But if I had known that that would have saved me from this conversation I would have given it more thought."

He nodded in understanding. I hadn't ever really bothered to explore my reasons for doing it; my life having hardened into something that kept me from really caring after Nora's death. But I guess almost getting gang raped actually does a number on you. I felt a little light headed with this realization, having never processed it. I was shaking slightly, but I didn't falter. When we got to the farmhouse I was going to have to take another walk.

««»»

We had been at the new farmhouse for a few weeks. There wasn't as much Patriot activity here, even a few more miles from the camp. We had to walk a little further, but on a whole we were safer. As I got off watch at the camp I walked towards the farmhouse. I enjoyed getting to know my men; they were all gruff but after Jim the Giant had died I felt the need to connect with them. To give them more of a reason to trust me. To fight with me.

I walked up the steps, breathing in the night air. It was warm, and smelled of grass and nighttime. I lingered on the porch a moment before heading in. We probably wouldn't live long, but I found myself wanting the peaceful moments more and more since we settled at the farm house. Maybe it was my growing bond with the Monroe family, or my reconnection with Miles, but my emotional barriers were starting to waver; starting to let all of the pain and loss from the last year hit me in full.

I sighed heavily and moved towards the door. My plan had been to go straight to bed, but instead I found myself drawn to the kitchen where I heard angry tones. Whoever was in there was being careful not to wake whoever was sleeping up. When I walked into the kitchen the voices stopped. Since my entire family and both Monroes were in the kitchen it became apparent that they had been trying to keep me from hearing.

"What's going on?," I asked in the awkward silence that followed my entrance.

Bass answered me, "Connor and I are going to restart the Republic. To fill the void once we destroy the patriots." With that he gave me a knowing look. He had told me two days after reaching the farm house. Apparently he needed me to trust him fully and know that I wouldn't leave when he told me that particular secret. It had been a shock, my wrist a constant reminder of the evil it had turned into. After a long_ long _discussion, we had come to a truce. I would keep an eye on him once they came to power. To make sure he never went, as he put it, 'bat shit crazy' again.

"I know," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. Miles, Gene, and my mom all gaped at me. "He told me last week. I'm not a big fan, but we need him. And if need be I'm always up for a good resistance fight." With that I smirked a Bass who just rolled his eyes. I caught the smile that danced across his lips quickly before he wiped it away. My mom cleared her throat, causing me to turn back in her direction.

"How are you okay with this? They killed your brother!," Rachel's voice grew with every word, only calming when Miles laid a hand on her shoulder. He was looking at me inquisitively, unsure yet angry at the same time.

"Yeah, I've thought about that," I started softly, looking at the scratches in the knotted wooden table and the light from the candles flickering across them; knowing that what I was going to say would shock more than one person in that room, "but I don't blame Bass. I should have been there when Dad died. If I was Danny never would have been in that situation."

I paused, my voice faltering. My next words had to be controlled or I wouldn't be able to say them to my family. I continued in a quiet tone, unsure of my voice, "Danny knew the risks going in. He insisted on staying. It could've been any one of us. That helicopter pilot was crashing, I doubt he was aiming very exactly," I was losing control of my voice; my volume rising, "It could have been any one of us. Dammit it could have been more than one of us. I'm tired of feeling guilty. Danny is a hole in my life that will never heal. Me more than any of you," I looked pointedly at my mother, who had been looking at me in unspeakable sadness; surprise entered her expression as well as hurt. She apparently hadn't realized how her insistence that she knew what loss was hurt me.

I kept going in a controlled voice, "I was his sister. I promised to keep him safe. And I failed. The one time I let go of his hand – I will never, ever forgive him, but I won't feel guilty about his death anymore. Or about not blaming Sebastian."

Everyone was staring at me. I looked around the room – Grandpa was looking at me like he looked at my mom when she was sick, Miles looked uncomfortable but there was something in his eyes, like a puzzle piece had just clicked into place. Connor hand landed on my shoulder and he squeezed reassuringly. I glanced up to his face which had an understanding look. I looked over at Bass then. His eyes were glassed over with tears. He also reached out his towards me; his landing on my knee.

"Charlie...," my mom breathed out, before putting her hands to her face. Maybe she finally understood how I felt.

Gene spoke first. "Is this how you really feel Charlie?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he answered, causing me too turn towards him, "then I guess that's that. We'll just have to make sure he doesn't go crazy again. Keep him from destroying innocent people with what he builds."

"Dad!," Rachel didn't look like she could quite believe what he was saying. "Charlie was bad enough, but you too? … How could you feel that way? About him?" Her tone was high and hysterical. Miles hadn't let go of her hand.

"Rachel I'm not losing another grandchild to that man. Charlie seems insistent on him staying, so he can stay."

My eyes watered but I blinked it back. I shot Grandpa a look of pure gratitude before looking at my mom. She shook her hand from Miles' and slumped with her head in her hands, her elbows boosting her up on the table.

"Rachel I didn't tell her-," Bass started.

"You should leave," Miles stated quietly, in an exhausted tone. He was obviously talking to Bass, but I didn't care. I had already decided to follow him out of the room. Connor had walked out after Grandpa had said Bass could stay. "We'll talk about this later. In the morning."

My loyalties might lie in odd places right now, but Bass trusted me and he would come back for me. He showed me that more times than would've ever asked him to. And while I was being careful, I knew that in this place in my life, he was one of my best friends.

I slowly got up from the table to follow Bass. Before I left the room I turned back around, taking a deep breath, steadying myself. If he left, I needed him before I got the answer to something that had been gnawing at my brain for what felt like years.

"Mom?"

"Yes Charlie?," she answered, lifting her head from her hand, using a tone as if I was bothering her in the middle of the most important thing in her life. A tone I've noticed only mothers can perfect.

"Would you have done it if it was Danny that survived?"

She didn't answer. She looked up at me in confusion. I had thought about doing this so much that I didn't realize she wouldn't know what I was talking about.

"Would you have tried to kill herself?"

I vaguely hear Grandpa gasp and out of the corner of my left eye I saw Miles whip his head to look at me aghast. All I could see was my mom's face. I heard blood pound through my head. Even I didn't fully realize how I needed her answer and absolutely what I needed her answer to be. Her expression changed instantly to shock, and then more slowly to a cross between what I thought was apologetic and shame. Tears burned in my eyes as I turned to the doorway that still held a now shocked looking Bass. I brushed by him into the hallway, blinking back my tears furiously. I finally had my answer.

I heard Bass' boots pounding on the wood behind me, following me as I ran right out the door into the soothing darkness and heat of the night.

««»»

Less than a month ago Bass had followed me 20 miles into the twilight desert. Today I didn't even make it two. He caught me before I collapsed to the ground, holding me in a tight embrace as I let out all of the sorrow and the pain that I had been holding in since Danny's death. It all hit me now: wave after wave of sorrow washed through me bringing tears and wracking my body with sobs. With each one I felt my walls breaking and weight lifting off my shoulder. Through it all he held me tightly against him. At some points I could feel him crying too, others I felt his tears fall on my head. For the most part he was simply there holding me; ensuring that after this, he would be someone I trusted. It must've been hours later when I stopped sobbing. I felt him pick me up and head back the way we came just before I drifted off to sleep wrapped in his arms and the warm Texas air.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm gonna need to start weekly updates, so Saturdays! I also am probably going to edit the first three chapters, but I'll keep you posted. I do not own Revolution or any of the characters. **

**World Edits: Based on a picture from 2x16, there were 6 men, which is why there are 5 in my story. Yeah, technically there are only 4 in the show, but I already thought of 5 names so yeah. And yes I did name some after the Winchesters but I figured why the hell not. Lastly I am slightly exaggerating the relationship issues between Charlie and Miles (maybe.) I also made Rachel slightly bitchier that she actually is.**

With my legs swinging over the edge of the hayloft, I watched the morning sunlight filter in through the frame where the barn door used to be. I had been awake for a while, but not long. A few days had passed since my "outburst" as it had been termed by Rachel upon my waking the day after. She and I had had a good "talk" that morning.

««»»

_Three days ago..._

I jerked awake. I was lying on my bed fully clothed, well I saw my jacket lying on the bed next to me, but close enough. My head pounding, my skin had that tight feeling that happens after a long cry. And dehydration of course. For I few minutes I lay there, letting myself wake up gradually. I didn't know what was going to happen today, but I figured that wasn't going to be good. Granted, miracles happen.

I didn't make it two steps out my door before I ran into Miles. He looked like he had been waiting for me.

"Hey kid I wanted to talk to you."

I stopped myself before I frowned at him. "What's going on?," I hopes this would be quick. I really needed to get myself some water. It wasn't as bad as when I was drugged, but I didn't feel great.

"Can we go into your room?," He glances away as he asked. I felt the nerves rising in my throat even as I responded yes. He wasn't going to yell at me, was he?

I moved over to sit on my bed while he closed the door. He stood there, facing away. Then I heard his quiet voice, "I'm sorry."

I was speechless. I had not expected that from him. Sure, I had noticed a definite difference in our relationship since I came back, especially since I brought Bass back with me. When I didn't answer he turned around and looked me in the eyes and continued, "I hadn't realized how far apart we'd grown in these past few months. And I'm sorry that you didn't feel that you could come to me. I'm not so good with this, touchy feely – stuff, but I want you to know that I always want to be there for you. And I realize that part of this is probably because I've been focused more on your mom, but I'm sorry that that turned into me forgetting to show that I care about you too. And I guess I was a little upset about you leaving when your mom got sick. And then when you brought Bass back... I was out of my depth, and I think I took it out on you a bit."

My bed creaked as I got up. I walked over to him without a word and put my arms around his waist, hugging him close. "I forgive you.. and I'm sorry."

As I let him go I added, "but I am going to be included more on plans from now on. We're commanding _my _men now. I need to look out for them. And make sure what we're doing is in their best interest."

He nodded. "Sounds fair."

««»»

We walked down the stairs together discussing the plans in the next few weeks. As of right now it sounded like no one knew really what the endgame was going to be. There was just a general "patriots equal bad" air running through everything. I was actually starting to think that Bass and Connor restarting the Republic was going to be the best option for people after we took down the Patriots. Granted, that was only if we didn't die first. And that someone kept Bass in check. Maybe he could find another Shelley... I found myself becoming annoyed at the thought of Bass with someone else. I mean, we worked well together, and I didn't want him to forget about me like Miles had. I shook my head to clear it. We were friends but, we couldn't be anything more.

We entered the kitchen to see Rachel waiting for us, well for me anyways. I went to the water bucket to grab a drink.

"Miles could you give us a minute?," I heard Rachel ask behind me. I looked over at Miles and nodded, telling him that I was okay with this. As he left I moved and sat opposite of Rachel at the table.

"Do you have anything to say to me?," she asked.

It was still the morning and for the second time today I found myself speechless. My mouth opening and closing like a fish, I shook my head.

"Okay then, it's my turn to talk. I can accept that you want to work with Monroe. I can work past that. I will never agree with restarting the Republic. It did too much damage the first time. You of all people should know that.

I left our community _for you and Danny_. So I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but that does not mean that you cared more about him then I did. I left my babies to keep you both safe and I will not be punished any more for it. I had to miss you growing up for a man that I hated-"

"Really mom? Really? You didn't leave to go to Bass. You left because you knew Miles would be there. And maybe you had good intentions, but way down deep in your heart, I know that part of you wanted to see Miles again. Hoped that you would. And after you left, I didn't have anyone. Dad and I just didn't see eye to eye on so much. I don't think you understand how lost I felt. How trapped I felt. But I couldn't let go of Danny's hand. So I had to protect him. Keep him safe. Because when I was little I promised to never let go of his hand. So yes I feel like my loss is bigger. We had each other. We trusted each other. I would've died for him, hell I almost did." My voice had started shaking I could hear the tears thicken and slow the words in my throat. Dammit I was never this emotional anymore. Desperately I tried to tamp my emotions back under control. My mom's face was impassive.

"Are you done?," my face slackened in shock and my tears dried immediately, "I didn't want to talk to you for a repeat of last night's outburst. I'm sorry you felt that way, but this is not my fault. And you have no right to punish me for what happened with Danny. And you have no right to invalidate my feelings. I was his _mother_. And I loved him with all of my heart. He was my-."

She cut off abruptly then, as if realizing who she was talking to. I knew what she was going to say. He _was _her everything. But being second best to him for both of my parents was getting hard to swallow. And the fact that we had relied so much on each other always seemed to go over my mom's head. After we got him back, he told me how he knew I would come for him. And I would. I had been fighting for him. I just thought my mom was fighting for _us. _

I steeled my heart. "Okay then. I'm sure he felt the same way. In fact, if he were here he would probably always take your side on everything and be your good little son. But he thought you had died. So he mourned you. Coming back into our lives would always be a process, there is no easy way to say surprise I'm alive."

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Truth is, I felt like my family had all died last year. The only thing that kept me going was the chance that I still had Danny. So I already grieved for you. Which is why I feel guilty. And I will try to see things from your perspective. And I will try not to invalidate your feelings, but I'm going to need you to at least try to see where I'm coming from too as opposed to just assuming that you're in the right."

And with that I left the kitchen.

««»»

That was three days ago. _Three days._ And not one word from my mother.

The only thing I had wanted was an apology. All I had needed from her was for her to acknowledge my suffering and apologize for her part in it. I had seen her try, I just wanted recognition for my pain. So I had taken to sleeping in the barn.

On the plus side, Dean was starting to trust me more. Don't get me wrong, he was no general, but he was tactically gifted and loyal to my other men to a fault. For all intents and purposes, he had been functioning as their leader, with me giving orders. I was taking contingencies. In case... people didn't live forever nowadays.

Starting to care again was.. weird. The wall around my heart had just broken that night. That wall was weakening slowly, growing more holes, letting more things in. It wasn't an overnight all of a sudden I'm an emotional person, but I find myself caring more. Loving the quiet lulls just as much as the battles. I still love staring up a the sky at night and thinking about the world. And I love the pause in the heartbeat right before I take down a dear. I'm beginning to love sitting around in a circle with my men, sharing stories and listening to all of the things that had happened in their lives.

Mikey had been in high school when the blackout had hit. He had been at a bonfire, not realizing anything had gone wrong until one of them had tried to start their car and it didn't work. Living in a small town, he and the twenty other people had to walk 10 miles back home. From there his family had helped build a wall around the town. Mikey had left home a few years after the blackout, always intending to go back. He related it to something called Mass Effect, I think. Said it was like the Quarian needing to find something beneficial to the home ship before returning. Whatever the hell that means. I guess he just hadn't found that yet.

Jonas had started in Chicago. He had been a member of a security team. Luckily he and his wife had been camping when the blackout hit. They didn't have food stores, but the had gear. They found a small town and started working their way in there. From there his story rang a little like Bass'. You know, minus the whole becoming a dictator thing. His wife had died in childbirth after the blackout. Though not his first child. She bore him five children before her death, delivering the sixth as she left the world. That was nine years ago. He had gone on a bender so bad that a couple in town had offered to raise his kids for a while so he could get his head together. She wasn't able to have any children, and they were desperate for some more for their relationship. Jonas had been on his way back when he was conscripted into the militia and fought. He hadn't seen his kids since. Which is also why hated Monroe. Granted just about everybody did these days so what was new.

Sam was quiet. He did his job and left everyone except basically Dean alone. He was an accomplished hand-to-hand fighter, and at Dean's request he would spar with me. I had been training with Bass, but I wanted to get used to different fighting styles, different opponents.

Dean was also far from an open book. He didn't talk about anything personal much, but would regale me with story after story of helping people they had met. What I did glean is that he and Sam were both raised by a mutual family friend, even though both of their fathers were around. They had been taught to fight even before the blackout and they were both damn good at it. It wasn't military fighting, like Bass and Miles, but it got the job done. They fought dirtier but they won. Sam was a better archer but Dean was better with a sword. And they both were amazing hand-to-hand fighters. They sparred daily. Some times they would spar in camp, others they would walk out into the woods near the house. And they thought no one knew what they were actually doing when they left the camp. I didn't care who they fucked, as long as they weren't killed by patriots for being too loud.

My last guy was named Vincent. He was just as strong as all of my other men, but he was as lazy as you could be nowadays. Granted, he was proficient and the best archer she had, but if he didn't have to, he wouldn't do it. But he was also incredibly sarcastic. He kept a running commentary through basically everything, even under his breath while they were trying to be stealthy. He got on Bass' last nerve, but Charlie and all of their men seemed to enjoy him.

I was shaken from my reverie by Connor walking into the barn. We were starting to fall into an easy camaraderie. Once we established that nothing was ever going to happen between us romantically (or physically again) it got easier. It wasn't that he was a bad lay, it just wasn't worth it anymore. My mind wandered to Bass and my stomach fluttered for a few seconds. I frowned slightly.

"Come on. We need food," Connor said up to me as he grabbed one of the guys' crossbow, holding mine out for me. I threw caution to the wind and jumped from the hayloft, flexing my knees as I hit the ground, absorbing the shock. He gave me a look that was a cross between 'you're crazy' and impressed. Wordlessly he handed me my bow and we walked out.

««»»

The take today wasn't that bad. Enough for at least a day, but we were going to have to find more food from somewhere. I sat and skinned the rabbits we had caught before going inside. My men had gone and either bought or stolen vegetables from a nearby town or something. I didn't know and frankly I didn't care. Food was food. We were lucky enough to have gotten all of the canned food from the cellar before it was compromised.

I headed into the kitchen to cook the rabbits. Grandpa had decided on soup for the night, and Jonas and Connor were both chopping said vegetables to go with the rabbit. Taking the rabbits from me, Grandpa skewered them to put on the fire outside. They did all of the cooking outside, and in order to make sure that the meat was cooked through they always cooked it for at least a few minutes before adding it to anything.

After making sure my grandpa didn't need my help, I left in pursuit of Bass. I hadn't seen him all day, which was odd because all of us live together. We see everyone every day. I found Miles, Bass. and mom about a hundred yards from the house, just in the small woods there. They were obviously arguing. Just like every other day, Bass was on one side with my Mom on the other and them pulling at Miles like he was taffy.

"They are children!," my mom said loudly, with vigor. This was her default argument, but I have to admit that she had a point. I didn't enjoy killing people my own age.

"Doesn't matter they're killers. After that one girl, Kim. We can't trust them. What happens if they go crazy? What happens if all of them get sent at us at once. We can't take that chance," Bass gave a passionately monologue while staring deeply into Miles' eyes. With all the eye contact these men gave each other one would think they were in love. Which, they kind of were. Just not the kind were you sneak into each others' rooms at night and you swallow each others' moans. The kind of love that you would die for, and be killed for, just to be in the others' life. At least Bass was. Miles was trying to resist it but chances are he wouldn't hold out.

Aside from a glance, none of them acknowledged my presence when I'd joined them. My thoughts on this had been rolling through me head for days.

I didn't enjoy killing them before this week, I wasn't a monster; but I was able to justify it to myself. Now it's harder with the walls separating my head and heart were breaking, letting the flood of my emotions cloud the jugdement. All the differences a week can make. But in reflection, this had been a long time coming. The girl I was when I left the compound where I had grown was gone forever, but it doesn't mean that the woman I became had to be a heartless bitch.

"We have no way to fix them. Until we do, we have to kill them. We can't take the risk that they'll be activated and come after us. If we can figure something out, I don't know black out their tattoos or something, then we should save them. Until then, we need to keep ourselves safe. Bass is right. We can't take a whole platoon of killing machines. We rely on human error to win. If we humans without that we will lose."

All of them looked at me. My mom slightly surprised and hurt. Probably that I had backed her up but hadn't sided with her. Miles looked grateful for someone that wasn't trying to pull him to their side. The look Bass was giving me made me feel like the center of the world. He looked at me with appreciation and wonder. And my stomach fluttered again as it had in the morning. My brow furrowed slightly before I looked around at them expectantly.

"Well that sounds like a plan," Miles said.

He and Rachel went off together, maybe trying to figure out a way to start saving the cadets; though since they were headed deeper into the woods we'll chalk that one up to probably not.

I smiled at Bass and nodded my head back towards the house. Our unspoken communication was strengthening, if possible, with our greater partnership. We turned to get some of grandpa's stew.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yay, week 2 of weekly updates! Let's do this together. Please feel free to message me if you see typos, etc. I would like to fix those. Thanks! Also if someone is interested in beta reading this please contact me. **

Sweat poured down my back, the air burned my lungs, my body slammed in the dirt. Jonas towered over me, a grimace on his face. He stalked towards me. Quickly, I swept my leg, his back slamming into the ground next to me. I moved to straddle him pinning is arms with my legs and holding my arm over his neck lightly, as to not choke him too badly. An infectious grin broke out over his face.

.

"You're getting better at this." My hand-to-hand sparring partners now included all of my men. We trained together with swords and sparring, and we managed to practice archery by using a bale of long grass that we had painstakingly "mowed." Whatever that meant. We couldn't waste arrows with the patriots always nearby. Between patrols and training, we were working to stay at the top of our game for these weeks. I was trying to keep my men away from the drama of my family, but in all honestly if we weren't related I would've bailed for good a long time ago. Hell, I had almost never come back after leaving the first time. If Bass hadn't shown me the bounty, I wouldn't even be here. So I related to my mens' bewildered and incredibly regretful looks. At least they were willing to follow me. Even when we had to move locations again, damn that kid that they let go, they almost seemed okay about coming with us now.

««»»

Later that night Connor and I were working on getting a barrier built around the industrial site we were now occupying. Well, that's not completely true, all of us but Gene and Miles were working on it; it's just we were working together. They had gone back into Willoughby today because Grandpa thought that some people might join us to fight the patriots. I thought that this was idealistic, but didn't have the heart to say that to my Grandpa.

While I had come around to the idea of the militia, sort of, it was still making me nervous. I was terrified that Bass was going to backslide into that man he was. And I didn't trust Connor further than I could throw him. Yeah, we'd fucked, but that didn't mean anything. It was just that I couldn't tell what his intentions were.

Something just seemed off about the man. Maybe I should just make more of an effort. There was something that I didn't trust about his motives anymore. But it is entirely possible that this was because of the more intense bond growing between me and his father. I don't entire know what to do with my attraction to him anymore. It used to be clear that nothing could ever happen, but now I wasn't so sure. Even when I didn't mean to I seemed to always end up on his side when he, Miles and my mom were fighting. And the warm curl that formed at the bottom of my belly when I see him seemed to be growing more emotionally attached than just physical. It scared me.

My mind drifted to Bass. Last night he had woken from a nightmare during my shift, and we had proceeded to pull from a bottle of some type of alcohol that he had produced from somewhere. A smile had come over my face, and I glanced towards Connor to see how he was faring on current fence post. He seemed to be doing okay, but I don't know Bass was going to justify handing over a _nation _to him. I exhaled laughingly, eliciting a response from him. "Tell me what's so funny." His tone was almost friendly, but I knew I couldn't tell him that I had been thinking that I would be a better person to rule with his dad; I quickly came up with a lie. "I'm just picturing you and Bass. Hey, are you guys thinking matching thrones? Because I think that would be adorable. Let's be honest, you're a skinny-ass nobody going in with arguably one of the world's most unbalanced men, so I don't know, don't you think you're in over your head a little bit?"

His back straightened and I could tell that I had hit a nerve. "You don't know me. What I did. Back home. Maybe I'm finally where I'm supposed to be. You ever think of that?" His response was along the lines of what I had expected to hear, but it disconcerted me. From Miles' stories, I knew that Bass hadn't started as a power hungry dictator. He had become one. Connor seemed like he could be one too. But this could just be my own issues with the Republic coming back. I had put on a brave face when I had to defend Bass, but I never actually thought that they could actually bring it back. What would I do then?

A frown furrowed my brow as I turned, spotting an orange glow on the horizon. Fear froze me from the inside out. "What's that?," I asked aloud to Connor. He turned to track where my eyes were staring at the horizon.

««»»

We carefully picked our way around the ruins close to where the fire raged. We could hear voices. Bass was leading, with my mom behind him. Generally that would be me or Connor, but both of use were hanging back by my men, ready for Bass to signal us. As a group we reached the treeline, allowing ourselves to be obscured while looking at who we were going against. We could see men looting the corpses of a Patriot patrol. Suddenly Vincent moved from behind me, all of the guys following him. "Vince, what's going on?" I whispered desperately at his retreating form. He simply turned and waved us on, a huge smile breaking across his face. Vincent started yelling to the men, and when he pulled them into an embrace I understood. These were Duncan's men. But I didn't see Duncan, so why were they here?

As the rest of us crossed the clearing to the camp a man with dirty blonde hair moved towards us. "Hey you're Monroe." It wasn't a question, but Bass answered like it was. He sounded like he was trying to hold back the worry in his tone, but he wasn't succeeding. "Yeah that's right. You're, uh, you're Duncan Page's men."

The man nodded. "What's left of them." I frowned. What had happened? Bass asked the obvious question. "Where's Duncan?" The man looked apologetic as he answered. "She's dead." Bass froze. I looked down, trying to hide my shock. How had she died? I mean, she handed me over, but really? At least she had done what I expected of her. And she did it to protect her men, so it made perfect sense to me. And I had been looking forward to seeing her after this was over. Monroe looked almost devastated as he asked, "How?"

"These bastards in khaki. That's how. The Patriots. And we want blood." Bass look wavered between devastated and unsure before his face set determinedly.

"Well you came to the right place." I looked over at him concerned. This is not what I thought he would do.

The man before us launched into an explanation. "After you left Vegas, those Patriots hit us. Hard. Word is they're taking out every war clan they can find. Trying to bring some civilization to the plains."

Bass looked around at the number of men surrounding us. "This is all that's left?" He made a good point. Maybe one-tenth of the forces I had seen in her main camp were represented.

The man defended himself. "Duncan fought like hell, but," he paused and looked down, obviously disturbed by what had happened, "they blew her face clean off. I saw it happen. Her and half the tribe. That's why we're here. To find _you_. Duncan said you were down here. Killing those U.S. sons of bitches."

"That's right, we're trying." Bass' tone was raw. "So, uh, you're in charge of this little war party?" I saw what he was getting at and didn't want to believe my ears. "I don't wanna be. I make a damn good Indian, but I'm no chief." With his statements my fears from earlier came back at full force. He was giving Bass the way back to the Republic. "Well, that makes sense. After all you need a leader with experience, right?" As he spoke the last sentence he looked directly at me, his gaze challenging mine. I could not believe that he had just said that. We were supposed to be on the same side. For gods' sake he was the person I trusted most in our group. I arranged my face say, "don't you dare," and glanced around disbelieving when he looked down, seemingly regretful.

The man had seen what had happened between us but chose not to comment. "You came to Duncan asking for men. Well, you got 'em." What was Bass doing? This was not what I expected from him. I was quiet as we rounded up the men and headed back to the abandoned power plant where we were stationed.

««»»

Vincent came up to me when we got back. I had climbed one of the catwalks, trying to clear my head.

"Charlie?" I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. With his friends and comrades fighting for Bass now I wasn't sure if they would still follow me. "We were wondering if we could go with the men to raid the camp." I shut my eyes and thought for a second. So he was the emissary. I doubted that they stay behind even if I asked. I nodded. "We'll all go." I answered, looking directly into his eyes so he understood what I meant. He nodded.

Before we left I avoided Bass. The way he was acting was making me nervous. I stayed close to my guys. Then I heard Connor shout above the din, "We're moving out." I passed my mom while walking with the men.

"Charlie?" She sounded shocked. "If my men are going, then I'm going too." I didn't even pause but I could feel her staring at my back. I shook it off as I walked on.

««»»

We slaughtered the training camp. I knew that we had to but damn. Killing kids that were younger than I was gave me a shitty feeling. But we had to. Bass was right; next week, these kids would be Patriots and would be killing us.

We only lost a few men, having the element of surprise. Even though I had traveled the whole way there with my men I ended up fighting next to Bass and Connor. When we finished clearing one of the tent we walked out to see Bass shooting men crawling on the ground. I knew why. I knew that if any survived then they could lead them to us. But I couldn't help myself. He had basically gone against everything in our now strong friendship in the past few hours and I couldn't take it anymore. Not looking away from him I said to Connor, "That's the man you want to follow? Good luck with that."

The man that had been before us was General Monroe. Not Bass. I would die for Bass. Lay down my life in a second and not regret it. But I couldn't do that for General Monroe. I walked away. Not stopping I walked all the way back to the power plant. I didn't know what I would do if he changed completely and forever. He was going back down this road because of Connor. Deep within myself I felt the familiar dark spiral of hate forming. The only difference is that this time it was directed in part at Connor.

««»»

I detoured and it took me longer then I intended for me to get back to the plant. When I finally got there I found water and retreated back up to the catwalks. For some reason I felt safe up there. Duncan's men had filled the camp with torches, lending unfortunate visibility to my position.

I heard someone approach while I cleaned the crusted blood from my hands and my jacket. Not needing to look up, I knew it was my mother.

"Whose blood is that? Anyone we know?" I felt her judgmental glare burning into me, releasing a flood of shame. "How could you go with them?"

The only defense I had was the one that I knew was true. "They were going with or without me." Yeah, they had asked, but if I said no it wouldn't have mattered.

"You killed kids." She just didn't get it. They were like Danny. They had offered to fight. The fact that they died was because of decisions they had made. If we didn't get to them first, we would all die. "We had to hit that camp."

"Why?" I looked back down. She obviously assumed that I enjoyed it or something. Truthfully, I hated it. I just knew there was no other option that would keep us alive. "So Monroe can get his Republic back?"

The sea of shame and regret that had washed through me when this "conversation" had started suddenly ignited into rage. I would never fight to get that back. "Mom, Monroe's deluded. I don't care how many men he's got he's not getting the Republic back." Apparently I had more of a problem with it then I had let myself believe. And the reversion to calling him Monroe wasn't intended, but I had felt our bond straining over the past day. "What makes you so sure?"

I let loose then. "Well, none of us are going to live that long anyway. But until then, we stay standing, we keep fighting, and we do whatever it takes to win. I didn't go for Monroe I went for myself." In my heart I knew that was only partially true. I had gone to convince myself that he hadn't completely reverted into the man who had watched me almost die at the hands of Strausser for my brother. "I'm sorry." I was wary. There was so much I wanted an apology for. "For what?" My tone was curt, but I couldn't help it. There was too much riding on this answer. "You've been watching me and Miles; the way we act. The awful things that we do. How could you be any different? We did this to you. We made you into this weapon... this soldier. You are twenty-two years old, you can still have a future." It was the wrong thing to apologize for. "Really?" My answer was drawn out and disbelieving. "Yes. What are you fighting for if you don't have any hope?" Her tone was so demanding. So insistent that what she was saying was true. But I couldn't believe it for a second.

"What the hell's gotten into you, huh? You're the scariest person I know and now you're preaching sharing and caring? What's the point? What are you fighting for?"

"You." Her voice was so small that I didn't trust her answer initially. "I guess I'm fighting for you. I'm fighting so you won't be me." She walked away. I wasn't sure what to believe. She sure had a funny way of showing how concerned she was. I yearned for her to understand what I was doing. Why I was doing it. The only way we could survive this is if we stuck together. And for some reason, I found myself needing Bass to be part of my future.

««»»

I found Bass a few hours later. I hadn't been there when Miles got back, but I had heard what happened. He sat on the catwalk I had been on earlier, his legs dangling over the edge, his body braced forward against the rusted metal railing. The bucket of bloody water had been replaced with a clean one, but Bass hadn't even tried to use it. I had seen him drinking with Connor and then alone, but had been working through what my mom had said to me. Granted, I was nowhere near to okay with it; still struggling to process and move past what she had said. Maybe she was fighting for me, but it sure as hell didn't seem like it. I doubted I could ever actually "become her." She was too damn logical for my stupid emotional self.

I stood at the base of the stairs for a few seconds, debating on whether to go to him or not. We hadn't talked since the rest of Duncan's men joined us. And I knew I had been passively lashing out at him through Connor. I couldn't help myself at the time, but I had said I wasn't going to hold the Republic against him. So I at least owed him an explanation.

With a deep, steadying breath I climbed the stairs to the catwalk. I grabbed the bucket of cool water and moved it directly behind where Bass sat staring blankly into the distance. There's no way he didn't know I was there but didn't react, so I simply sat next to him and grabbed the arm closest to me. With the dirty rag that I had used earlier I started to clean the blood off his hand in slow strokes, scrubbing the rough cloth over the crusted blood, rinsing and squeezing out the rag. I sat there repeating the action, trying to apologize for what I had said, waiting for him to say something. He didn't. We sat in a not quite companionable silence while I cleaned off his other hand. When I moved to start on his face he grabbed my wrist tightly but not painfully, holding it stationary. He turned his head to look at me but didn't say anything.

"You okay?" I asked him, truthfully not knowing what the answer would be. He probably knew that I had been unsure of him again. But I had every right to be. Granted he probably knew why too. I knew he wanted to start the Republic again, I just didn't know what I was going to do once that happened. I had never though it would happen. Connor had always been prominent in his plans but my family wasn't there at all.

He shook his head with a grimace, his pain evident; it cut through me like knife. His now clean fingers gently removed the cloth from my hand and with it he started to wipe the blood from his face. "I'm sorry." The words were ripped from my throat, their tone low and pained. My voice was raspier than I expected it to be. "I think I was just – um, when you talk about what you want to do with the Republic – just, do you actually want to be partners still? Because right now I'm seeing a lot of you and Connor, but not so much anything that has _anything _to do with me. And it feels like I'm being left behind."

I wasn't looking at his face because I didn't want to see his answer before he said it. I needed to know this answer, but I couldn't tell if I wanted to. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?" My face burned and fearful tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I nodded. He didn't necessarily sound angry, he just sounded tired. I leaned into him as his arm slid around my shoulders and pulled me against him. "I'm restarting the Republic for Connor, but I don't know if I want to be a part of it. What I turned into – it wasn't pretty. And I still have a lot of things to make up for from last time. I just, I don't know if I can do it again." I nodded against his shoulder. My breath was catching in my throat. I had seen that man briefly earlier tonight. I didn't want him to come back either.

"Do you trust Connor that much? I've never really trusted him. He seems..." I trailed off, searching for a word that I couldn't find. Bass seemed to understand what I was going for though. "I know exactly what you mean, but he's my son. I owe him so much and this is what I can give him."

"Just, before you hand the lives of people over to him, please be sure. That it won't come back to bite you." I slid my arms around his waist to complete our hug, suddenly needing the compassionate contact that I hadn't gotten earlier with my mother. He squeezed the arm that was around my shoulder as he wrapped the other one around me too.

"I'm sorry by the way." My head moved, angling upwards to see his face. To my surprise he was looking down at me. Our eyes locked. He took in the look on my face, the confusion there must've been evident. "For insinuating that you were an unfit leader." With that I pulled away from him, our moment broken. It still hurt, even though there was truth to his words. "You had a point. And it's not like they completely ignored me. They did ask me to come with them." I exhaled laughingly, the expression on my face dry. Grabbing onto the bar I pulled myself up.

"Thanks for the apology, though it's sort of unnecessary. You are the more experienced leader; better is debatable, more experienced, yes." He laughed and stood alongside me. His eyes looked bright against his now clean skin. Both of us were still dirty and greasy, but at least no blood remained on us. His expression changed, his eyes suddenly sparked with something that looked like lust. He stepped forward into the few feet that separated our bodies. My eyes locked onto his lips, my tongue flicked out to wet my own. The attraction that I had been resisting since I had seen him fight the first time intensified. "Charlotte." My gaze moved to his eyes. "Are you sure?" Instead of answering him, I pulled his lips down to mine. Softly I brushed my lips over his. A moment passed and I pulled away.

He looked at me for a few seconds before crushing me against him, lifting my hips into is, my arms snaking up around his shoulders. We stepped in unison back to the railing behind me and he balanced me against it; my legs slid to circle his hips. One of his hands traveled up my body to snarl in my hair. The other held my hips with a bruising force as we ground together. Our tongues tangled, him the dominating force. I don't know how long we were like that, our bodies desperately moving against each other. When our mouths broke apart we were both gasping. I slid back down his body until I was standing. No words came to my head, but I felt the overwhelming need for there to be something before this progressed any further.

Sensing my insecurity, he hugged me close; his hand went under my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. He smiled at me and I felt my stomach flip, my mouth forming a stupid grin. I fell for him absolutely in that moment. "You realize we can't actually do anything more right? If anything we would need to find a place in the woods, so let's blame the patriots for cock blocking you. And if Miles ever learns about us you'll be getting way more than a punch in the face."

His laughter rang out before he muffled it against my neck. We stilled, listening for movement in the darkness. Hearing nothing we separated, leaving our hands to brush against each other and went to walk back down to the ground. If we were going to figure out what to do tomorrow, both of us would need all the rest we could get. But I could tell by the warm heavy wetness low in my belly that that probably wasn't going to happen.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I still need a beta reader... or I would really like one. Even if you're not qualified by the site I just need someone to tell me if it doesn't flow right. Also, I'm writing the Jason death scene (apparently because I hate myself) so if you don't want to read it skip to the first break. However, the will be a theme throughout the entire thing. **

**In other news I'm going to split Chapter 5 into two separate ones because it got a little long for my tastes. So there will be an update but not a real one in the next week. **

The shot crashed through the room, deafening me, but I was focused on the man who was falling to his knees. I scrambled to Jason, kneeling in front of him on my knees, I hugged him to me. His life ebbed away as I helplessly clutched him tighter. Hoping against hope that somehow he would survive. Blood, _his _blood was spilling, staining our clothes.

He should still be alive. Or at the very least I shouldn't have been the one to kill him. We hadn't really ever ended our romance; we simply taken different paths that happened to lead away from each other. And I was livid when I learned that he was a Patriot. It always seemed that he ended up on the opposite side of mine, a fact which never ceased to frustrate me. It was his father's fault.

His father had known what had been done to Jason. I could tell by the way he asked to join us. It wasn't the first time he had reached out for help. I'd heard it in his tone. I'd recognized the desperation in his eyes. Hell, I had _felt_ that desperation, or at least part of it. Regret washed through me again. He had started to remind me of what I was like before this past year. Before everyone else had left. He made me feel innocent, and together. We were equals. We understood each other.

Slowly my grief ebbed into anger. I hadn't wanted to kill him. But he wouldn't stop. Who the fuck had activated him? I had caught sight of him entering the build, had found him easy enough. When had they found him? Why did they activate _him_? There had obviously been a different backup in place because they hadn't known that Jason was here.

I couldn't stay there anymore. The walls had started to close in on me, a weight settled on my chest, the air burned in my throat. I shifted around Jason's body, wanting to take him with me but knowing that I couldn't without being noticed. Before I left I grabbed his jacket from where it had fallen to the floor when I grabbed it from the gun. Somewhere in my mind, I wanted it in this moment to be a gesture of emotional connection. A way to show that I had loved him. But in reality it was to cover the blood on me. To aid in my escape.

««»»

Night had fallen before I left the building. In the back of my mind I thought it odd that no one had searched the surrounding buildings for the other gunman. After all the president had almost been shot. I guess there were so many empty and abandoned buildings everywhere that as long as the president survived it didn't really matter. I wove back and forth, taking an indirect route to my destination. Before entering Austin we had designated a rendezvous point near the river where we had crossed if he got separated. I didn't bother to stop and rest at all; if I stopped I wouldn't be able to keep going.

My throat throbbed. I felt the bruises form on my throat in the shape of Jason's hand. I knew that they would know something had happened when I reached them. What that was, I didn't know how to say. The blood in my clothes had dried, stiffening and dropping from my clothes as I moved. I felt sticky and dirty. My heart hurt when I thought of Jason. And when I thought of Bass. He had been considerably more focused on Miles since they left for Austin, leaving me with Connor and... Jason. A sob wrenched itself from my abused throat. I couldn't think about him right now. In following Jason into that building I had left Bass. I vaguely remembered hearing another gunshot while holding Jason. Fear crept up my spine, settling there like a cat in it's favorite sunbeam.

Relief shot through me when I saw the signal fire. It was discrete, but it is where we agreed to meet. I snuck up to the fire, not wanting to draw attention to myself; even though there was a fire there it didn't mean it was someone I knew. Miles was pacing on the other side of the fire, his tension was apparent in his stance. Connor was crouched against a tree, staring blankly into the fire. Bass was no where to be found. Deeming the camp safe, I made myself to walk into it. I suddenly didn't feel like facing anyone. My nerves were too raw.

"Charlie! Thank God," Miles exclaimed as he caught sight of me. His face fell as he took in my appearance. "What happened?" I just shook my head, knowing enough not to trust my voice. Tears reformed in my eyes and Miles pulled me into a tight hug. "Jason's dead." The words were barely above a whisper; they'd had to be forced through my now aching throat. I felt Miles' stance deflate a bit. When I pulled out of his embrace I could see questions in his eyes. None of those were ones that I was ready to answer.

So I turned away, nodding at Connor as I slid from Jason's jacket, grabbed my pack and headed downstream a ways. I felt Miles' and Connor's eyes follow me long enough to ensure I wasn't leaving. I stripped, leaving the blood caked clothing by the stream as I waded in to the ice-cold water, my small soap bar in my hand. It soothed my numb soul. I slid further into water, proceeding until it came up to my neck so it could numb my bruised throat. Mechanically I moved my hands roughly up and over, cleaning my body. I threw the soap back to the shore and dunked my head. I massaged my scalp, the ache from crying that had made it's home there over the past few hours slowly abating.

I went to leave the water, my body now comfortably numb. The water had been freezing, but the night air was warm and dry. I squeezed the excess water from my har, the air circling and grazing over my body. Evaporating the remaining droplets of water from my skin. I couldn't wash Jason's blood from my clothes until returning to Willoughby, so I changed into the only other set of clothes that I brought with me. To be honest, they weren't much cleaner, but they weren't stiff with blood and that was good enough. They were worn, and felt good when I slid into them. Slowly I moved back to where I knew I would find Miles and Connor.

In the time that I had been bathing Bass arrived, I heard him and Miles talking before I reached the camp. With my skin cleaned, the bruises must've stood out more, because Connor took a double take at my throat when I came back into view. Bass and Miles were sitting next to the fire. I felt my lip twitch as I saw them, not sure if it was because I saw them being friendly again or if it was because another sob locked itself painfully in my throat. Wordlessly took a place halfway between Connor and the other men, waiting to hear what the plan was.

"Holy shit." I turned at the sound of Bass' voice to see everyone was staring at me now. "Charlie what happened to your throat?" His tone was low and seemed both scared and angry at the same time. I tried to speak a few times before words actually worked their way from me. "Jason." I paused, nodding, tears pricked back into the corner of my eyes; from the corner of my eye I saw Miles rock backwards. "He got activated. Had to shoot him. Had to." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I broke off; no longer able to keep going.

Bass left Miles' side, coming over and pulling me into his arms. Tears wouldn't come anymore, but I needed the comfort now. I returned his hug; wrapping my arms around him, feeling his chin rest on top of my head. We rocked back and forth slightly, the stress seeping from my body. The emotional pain and suffering of the last twelve hours fading a little bit from my mind. We broke apart only to have Miles pull me into another hug. It wasn't as long, but it meant just as much.

Connor and I nodded to each other again. He had been slightly put out ever since Jason had joined us, something I didn't understand. We had become friends, even though we had slept together. Maybe he was jealous of the obvious bond that Jason and I still shared. I had told him that I didn't trust Jason, which wasn't completely true. And the fact that I plainly trusted Jason more than Connor irked him. Especially since I hadn't seen Jason in months before going to Austin. Connor handed me his canteen though, the water soothing my aching throat. Miles tried to give me his flask, but I knew that the burn of alcohol wasn't going to help me right now.

««»»

We had been on the road for three days already on our way back to Willoughby. The bruises on my throat bloomed to a deep purple color. The others that peppered my body from the fight varied. Bass had been livid when he'd seen them for the first time, having gotten frustrated and me shifting while sitting in the back of the wagon. He'd forced me to show him why I was so uncomfortable. When he realized they were because of Jason Bass was no longer angry. He made sure I had something soft to sit on. When we broke for camp the first night he showed me a few stretches that he'd learned in the army to relieve my aching muscles and try to speed the healing process.

I'd kept wearing Jason's jacket, this time for more sentimental reasons. It was taking us far longer to get back than it had taken us to get there. It was for a number of reasons. Miles said it was because we no longer had to beat the patriots back, but I had the sneaking suspicion that they wanted to give me as much time to grieve as he possibly could. In Willoughby we would be back in the thick of things.

I was grateful to all three men for that. But, in all honesty, if I hadn't become close with Bass over the last few weeks this would have broken me. I had to shoot my first love, and watching his die had been the final straw that had broken Bass. Since I had been fighting against him when it happened, I hadn't felt to remorseful – thinking of that now made me feel worse. It was odd that he understood sort of what I was going through.

Everyone was quiet now, Bass driving with me next to him; Connor and Miles in back. It almost felt like the first time I took Bass to Willoughby. But now I was in Jason's jacket and loss stained my soul once again. It went perfectly with the blood on my hands. Bass must have noticed that I hadn't simply lapsed into silence, but had retreated into the depths of my mind. I slid back to reality when his hand settled on my knee; the reins clutched in the other. He glanced over at me, a concerned look painted on his face. I gave him a tight smile, the best I could manage at that point, and slid closer to him. He moved his hand from my knee to wrap around my shoulders. I cuddled against him as best I could on the narrow wagon bench, getting comfortable.

The rocking of the wagon was soothing. The monotony of the hooves clopping, the light wind over the plains, and the warmth of the sun slipping beyond the horizon lulled me to sleep; the strong arm around me imparting the feeling of security.

««»»

I woke when Bass pulled the horses to a stop near another stream, or more of a creek really. We were camping for the night, still another three days from Willoughby. Well, at the pace we had been going we were three days from Willoughby. In all honesty we could be there in about two, but they were trying to give me as much time as possible. It couldn't have been more than an hour after I fell asleep though. Miles helped Bass rub down the horses for the night, giving them the grains that we had packed as well as a drink. Connor started making a fire, and I went off to hunt.

An hour later I made my way back to the makeshift camp. I managed to bag two rabbits, but they were small. We've got some dry rations to supplement, though we might have to stop in the next town if hunting continues to be this sparse. Correction, Connor would have to stop in the next town. The rest of us were too high profile now to show our faces. Bass was by far the most conspicuous now because everyone knew he was alive.

When I sat by the crackling fire Connor joined me, helping me skin the rabbits. He wasn't very good at it yet, but I had only taught him a few weeks ago and hadn't given him much practice since. And he was learning. Bass and Miles had gone somewhere – probably to secure the perimeter around the camp. We sat in a comfortable silence until we got the rabbits roasting over the fire.

"Charlie?" I looked to Connor, smiling instinctively. "I– I'm sorry that you had to kill him. I mean, I wasn't his biggest fan, but I could tell he made you happier. I'm sorry you had to do that." A few tears tracked through the thin layer of dirt on my face, overflowing from my eyes. "Me too," I said, rubbing my tears away. Because of all the losses I had suffered my grief cycle was considerably accelerated. Mostly the tears stopped coming now. I thought back on Jason more fondly than of his death. We really hadn't been together that long but I would think back to Nate, and the short time we fought on the same side.

««»»

When Miles and Bass got back when the food was almost ready. Bass was rubbing his jaw like it hurt, throwing amused glances at Miles. Miles looked angry, but his face softened when he looked at me. Bass sat down next to me, throwing a mischievous look at Miles.

I leaned to Bass whispering, "What's going on?' He laughed and shook his head. I turned my head to face the fire again. I felt his beard tickle my ear as he moved his mouth significantly closer to in then was strictly necessary for communication. "I'll tell you later." His voice was smooth and I shivered lightly as it slid through me. For the first time in days I felt okay. I wasn't happy, but I also wasn't sad. That was good enough for me.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry this is late. I had a really big project due Friday at midnight so of course I procrastinated until the last minute. And then I was sick yesterday. Anyways, please review.**

Miles was quiet while we ate. Every once in a while I would pester Bass about the bruise forming on his chiseled jaw. He just kept shaking his head. As the colors of the sunset bled from the sky, leaving blackness in their wake Connor and Bass fell into a deep conversation. Bass still hadn't left my side. I stared into the dancing flames, thinking of nothing. Thinking of everything. All those who had fallen to the blackout in the past year made an appearance. Miles was sitting across from me. He pulled me from my reverie as he stood. After standing for a second he looked at me and jerked his head away from the camp, a question in his eyes. I easily stood from my cross-legged position, nodding when Bass looked at me. His face told me I might not want to do this now, but I ignored him. The chances that Miles would do anything that would actually harm me were low.

About half a mile away he stopped. He turned slowly and pegged me with a cryptic gaze. "So you and Bass? I thought you said you wouldn't let him touch you." I snorted when I heard my words from months ago parroted back at me. He sounded frustrated. And completely at the end of his rope. So I just shrugged. "Well, things change. But why do you think we're _fucking_? We're generally pretty discrete." I was actually curious as to why he thought that and though we hadn't had sex yet, I was planning on fixing that soon. Yeah, I was generally more comfortable around Bass than just about anyone else at this point, but that wasn't a dead giveaway for something that we hadn't even done yet.

He paused a second before answering. "Well there was earlier in the wagon. But honestly that was a confirmation of my suspicions. I had been hoping that the night before we left for Austin was just a drunken mistake between the two of you." I felt the surprise materialize on my face when he mentioned seeing us on the catwalks. We hadn't really been trying to be discrete, but I hadn't thought that anyone saw us. "Look Charlie, I know that we haven't been the closest lately, but if you needed someone why didn't you just come to me? Bass was crazy; the man isn't stable." My mouth fell open at his final remark, I looked incredulously up at my uncle. He had been best friends with Bass for _decade__s_. His current mental stability was in part due to Miles. And even though I had started being included on plans he was sure as hell being a better companion to me than Miles over the last few months.

"Is this why you hit him earlier?" My tone was quiet, like the calm before the storm. The severity of which depended entirely on his answer. He looked away before nodding. "Where the _hell_ do you get off? I can talk to whoever the hell I want. And you know what else? I can fuck whoever I want too. Maybe this would have been valid if you were trying to nose in on my love life a year ago. But the number of heart to hearts we've had since I brought Bass back with me? That would be a big fat zero. You've been happy enough being pulled between Bass and my mother to talk to me about anything. Therefore you get no input on my actions." My voice had been rising in both pitch and volume. I couldn't believe that he would try to take control of my relationships like that. Yeah, I appreciate his input, but trying to break up a couple that wasn't even substantiated was a bit extreme even for Miles.

He looked upset. With his mouth opening and closing he looked like a fish out of water. He looked tense as he started pacing back and forth; obviously searching for something to say, what I didn't know. I just stood watching him. To me this seemed like a long time coming. He had been treating me differently; now he either had to tell me why or further destroy our relationship. "Charlie. There's been something that I've been meaning to tell you. While you were gone, your mom told me something... important. It turns out, that, well, there was a thing between me and your mom before you were born. Because of that – she told me I'm your father." Well. That wasn't what I was expecting. Unbidden laughter bubbled from my throat. Miles looked at me like I had gone insane, but I couldn't stop the laughter from shaking my shoulders. It rolled through me, lifting away the anger and frustration I had pent up inside be because of Miles. I fell into a crouch trying to to keep myself from falling over. My efforts proved futile as I fell on my ass. I simply sat there, laughing hard enough that I wasn't making any noise.

Slowly my laughter subsided into occasional giggles. When I had myself under control enough I looked up at Miles. He now looked simultaneously nervous and sort of excited. At least one of us was handling this well. I started slowly, "Okay. That isn't entirely unexpected. I mean, I'm way more like you than I ever was like my dad. And we just kind of clicked. But really? You react to finding out you're my biological father by basically cutting me out of your life and refocusing on my mom and your old best friend? You do _not_ win the father of the year award. But we can work on our relationship." I paused then, searching his face for a reaction. He seemed to be handling my reaction rather well, even if it most likely wasn't ideal.

"The fact that you are my biological father doesn't change the fact that Ben raised me. And Maggie was my de facto mother for years. You and my mom can go around and pretend that once we finish fighting these patriots we're going to be a big happy family but you know what? I don't know if I want to be part of your fucked up family. Moreover, I don't know why you would want to be with us at this point. My mom is a perpetual buzz kill who can't come to terms with what she's done and you can't figure out how to interact with me in any meaningful way. Until that changes, I don't see the three of us ending as a big happy family."

Truth be told I really wasn't angry at all. I was throwing the ball into his court. Whatever happened now was up to him. Without waiting for a response I turned and walked back to camp. I had no more to say, he was apparently not ready to say anything to me yet.

When I arrived by the fire I laid out my bed roll. Connor was already asleep, leaving Bass to keep watch. Bass was crouched next to the fire, the flames throwing flickering shadows across his face. I smiled reassuringly at his questioning look, but shook my head when he started to say something. While I wasn't angry, I wasn't ready to say anything to him just yet. I was still processing, and he was the only person that I could depend on right now. When he found out that I was Miles' daughter I needed to make sure he wouldn't freak out. Or leave me. I lay down and turned away from the fire, closing my eyes and willing myself to sleep.

My mind wasn't a willing participant in my plan of dropping off to sleep quickly. It danced from thought to thought. Concentrating Granted, he probably wouldn't leave me. Only stop our late night make out sessions, which is honestly just as bad at this point. I'd like to continue if not escalate those. They make me feel closer to him. And the closer I was to him the more stable we both were. We held each other to our actions. We didn't judge, just made sure the other knew if we thought it was right or wrong. Incidentally, I fell into the right more than he did, but he did know when I went too far. To clarify, he did all the torturing. He didn't like it when I did. Sleep overtook me.

««»»

_I was running. My feet were pounding the pavement, Danny's body was collapsing in front of me. But we weren't where he died. And no one was around. I was running on a perfectly preserved highway, as fast as I could. The desert air was burning my throat, sweat literally poured down my back, soaking my shirt. The faster I pushed myself the further away Danny got. He never moved, but it was like I was moving backwards._

_The air thickened around me, everything slowing. I began advacing towards Danny now, no longer being pushed away. Danny was flickering, his form shifting. Suddenly it was Nora dying in the distance. Then Maggie. Then my father. As I reached the ever changing figure it made yet another transformation. Jason's dying form appeared in front of me. I clutched his flannel shirt, making an attempt to bring him closer to me, there was no way he would __live. I clutched his jacket. As I held him I felt the __being in my arms change yet again. _

_I recognized the shirt under my fingertips. I'd held it before. I saw it every day. The muscles underneath it were familiar too. My heart clenched in fear. __I felt my breath shortening, slowly pulling away to look up into his face. Bass' face. He looked apologetic yet afraid. I looked down in confusion, seeing no wound anywhere on him that I could see. He wasn't dying. Laughter __formed in my throat, __relieved that he was still alive__. It died as a blade suddenly materialized from his stomach. __It was removed just as quickly._

_Blood bubbled from his mouth, his eyes both terrified and apologetic. A scream forced itself from my lungs, I clutched his dying form to me. I felt the tears streaming down my face, I was gasping, repeating Bass over and over, my tone getting more and more hysterical. _

_He fell limp from my arms, and I looked up into the triumphant face of Tom Neville. The shock and grief in a second flashed to rage. Without a thought I lunged at the man._

««»»

I woke with hands locked on my shoulders, shaking me hard. I blinked furiously clearing the sleep from my eyes; Bass' concerned face swam out of the fog in front of my eyes. Without thinking I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest. I hadn't ever considered how painful losing him might be. He shifted into a sitting position with me halfway in his lap; holding me close until my breathing calmed. When he felt I was sufficiently calmed, he moved to release me from his embrace. I shook my head against his shoulder and held him tighter. He laughed and lay down on his side half on my bedroll, with me facing him; tucked against him. We held each other until I slipped back to sleep.

««»»

He was still there when I woke up in the morning. We had shifted so he was on his back, me tucked against his side. We were lying on each of our bedrolls which had been zipped together so we could curl against each other. The nights got cold in Texas. The position we were in meant that at some point during the night he must have gotten up and shift us when I was asleep. A smile brushed over my lips as I extracted myself from his arms. When I sat up I caught a glare from Connor, whom was apparently was on watch. I sent a smile his way as I walked to find a place to do my business.

When I returned to camp after a few minutes Bass was awake also. He looked at me with a smile. I caught Connor's eye roll, even though he was turning away. Miles looked uncomfortable, shifting uneasily. We packed silently, dousing the fire and packing everything else. For breakfast we ate from our store of food in the wagon. My personal stash of diamonds was going to actually be in play for supplies now. It was a shame really, I had worked so hard for it. Well, gambled, but I was decent and it was my money. I knew well enough that everyone else was probably close to tapped out for how much extra food was going to cost where we were.

We repacked the wagon quickly, Miles quickly claimed the driving seat. I hopped in back, with Connor following me up. We collapsed on top of the feed sacks in the back, talking easily. He proceeded to tell me about all of the shit did while he was a drug lord. Not gonna lie, a lot of it was super fucked up. I mean, I had killed people, but he kidnapped people. Knowingly let people get raped. Selling people into slavery.

"You know that's really fucked up right? Slavery is awful. As is getting raped. And much of the other shit you did. Sure I killed people, but at least they died afterward." He was looking over at me. "Yeah I guess you're right." He didn't sound convinced though. I turned to him. "No really. If you guys actually want to get the Republic going again, you can't use fear. People don't like fear. And if they are constantly being threatened with rape and slavery you'll have another resistance on your hands before you get started. You won't be in power for long. And I would gladly be on the leading line of that resistance if you choose to go that direction." My eyes were hard. I had to let him no I was serious. He had been staring at me, but after a moment he nodded and turned away. "Guess I won't be doing that then... also, I will never call you mom."

I laughed in delight. He had just so casually brought up the fact that me and his father were sleeping together. Or not sleeping together, as we had never actually slept together. "Deal. And I promise to call you your full name whenever you're being a little shit." He smiled at me and laughed. "As long as you promise that I won't have a sibling any time soon." I giggled again. "That is another deal. Childbirth is hard. And getting pregnant would suck." With that our conversation turned to fighting techniques. We would reach Duncan's men and the remainders of my family tomorrow. So for today, we would relax.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, I'm referring to wherever their new safe house is as the power plant. Because it looks like a plant of some kind. And I pick power. **** Also I know technically they get separated in the show, but I've decided to ignore that for now because I don't know how far they get separated. **

**And I upped the rating because it definitely hit lime territory. Wanna be safe.**

The wagon was rocking slightly back and forth. The power plant had risen above the horizon a while ago, its height was masked by the trees surrounding it. I took in a deep breath, holding it for a beat before letting it out slowly. The hot dry air smelled of grass and horses, nothing that would denote the presence of humans. My mind would drift back to Jason, but instead of the pain related to him it jumped to the few happy moments we had. Or at least not to the most painful ones. I mostly felt regret in relation to him. Maybe if I had fought harder to get him in the tower with us he would have stayed with us after. Not gotten pulled into yet another one of his father's schemes. Somewhere in my mind I knew that it was a foolish train of thought, he would have left to find his mom regardless; I had had my own to deal with at that moment.

As time had passed and we had come closer and closer to the power plant I had become more and more quiet, unable to stop the knot forming in my stomach at the thought of seeing my mother again. She wasn't going to apologize for her comments. She never did. And I don't even know if she should. To a degree she is right, we are killing kids. But if we didn't take them out then they would definitely try and kill us. After the two kids in Austin and… Jason, it was clear that even if they personally didn't want to they weren't in control of themselves. We no longer had a choice if we wanted to survive. I had been hoping that Miles would tell my mom, but I had no way of knowing what he was going to do. He was avoiding me, shutting me down whenever I tried to talk to him. I should have cornered him the night before and made him understand that I was still willing to work with him while he decided what he actually wanted to do about me being his daughter. But I didn't. So he and Bass were up front again with Connor and me in back. With some difficulty I pulled my gaze from the power plant in the distance. They settled on Bass for a second before turning to Connor, whom looked just as lost in thought as I had been a second ago. I smiled, glad to have a friend back. He had gotten weird when Jason had come around, but so had I so I couldn't really judge now could I? If anything the past few days had cemented our friendship. And I personally felt that we had finally put that whole fucking thing behind us completely. I mean, it would get awkward if I started fucking his dad while Connor still thought that we could hook up casually.

It wasn't really that hard to make it through the patriot patrols now, comparatively. Hitting the reeducation camp apparently had done more good than harm. For us anyways. "Hey, how close are we going?," I called up towards the men in front. I didn't know if we would go all the camp or try and stash the wagon somewhere else. It was getting damn hard to hide all of us, even with how large the plant was. And getting out of there could be a nightmare if we got ambushed. "We'll go all the way in. Shouldn't be there long enough for an ambush," Miles answered after a moment. Even if we were leaving soon our inability to get away quickly was making me nervous. And I felt rightfully so. Telling Miles would accomplish nothing though, so I just nodded and looked back to Connor. I let my head drop forward against my knees, hiding my face from the sun.

"Excited?" I looked up at the sound of Connor's voice. His broad smile had carried into his tone, teasing me. I returned the smile before shaking my head. "If I could I would skip the next few hours. I have the feeling that nothing good is going to happen while we're there. And finding a new safe house is gonna be a bitch." He laughed at me before nodding. Bass turned back towards us from his place next to Miles, "We'll actually be splitting up now. So we're finding multiple safe houses. Move people from the power plant gradually. But we need to get out of there." I nodded, quickly adding, "Okay," I had forgotten that he couldn't see me. Part of me wondered when he and Miles had talked this over. We were together all of the time. Maybe it was while Connor and I were distracted in back of the wagon. Our discussions had been enlightening.

Getting to know Connor was turning out to be a good idea; he wasn't as useless as he first appeared. He seemed to be at least a partially competent leader and he was a good shot. His judgment probably needed some work, as well as the underlying hunger for power. For some reason he didn't see the caustic effect it had had on his father the same way I did. Probably because he was so busy hating his father most of the time. Shame really. If he could see the path as clearly as I did he would be sprinting away from Bass and the promises the man was making.

The wagon entered the path through the small wood surrounding the plant. The knot in my stomach tightened at the thought of seeing my mother. For the life of me I couldn't understand why I cared so much. Up until last year I had thought she was dead. I had mourned her, said goodbye already. Which was good, because the woman who my mother now was bore little resemblance to the woman I remember her being. The past few months had changed her further, causing her to become more and more unrecognizable to my eyes. As far as I was concerned, she was just someone whom I helped protect. And I couldn't figure out why I couldn't fully ignore my feelings for her. I knew she was technically my mom, but damn, she never apologized for anything and then she was judgmental as shit of everyone else. Maybe it was guilt. I felt guilty that Danny would have forgiven her. Danny would have looked past everything that rested so heavy in my heart.

The seemingly never ending reverie of mine was broken yet again. Travel time gives way too much time for reflection. One of Duncan's- no Bass' men broke through the trees to our right. He was panting, sweat glistened on his brow. "Sir. While you were gone a man named Aaron arrived in camp." At his name my heart jumped. It would be nice to have someone that I had known for more than a couple years back. "The woman he brought with him, Priscilla, she- she- she's not normal. The looks she's been giving the men, they're almost... hungry. And she kept saying things about stuff that happened here, when she wasn't here yet. We don't think she's safe." Miles and Bass glanced at each other. Together they looked back over at Connor and me. Miles sighed. "We're going to have to split up. The wagon keeps going because they've probably heard it already. And Bass and I can't go together. If one of us gets caught the other can go solo to free him. I'll take the kid." At that Miles gestured to Connor. Surprise and hurt wove their way through me. I knew that we had been distant, but Miles didn't trust Connor worth a damn. Bass was giving him a weird look, and I must have been too because Miles exaggeratedly rolled his eyes before answering our unspoken question. "I need to know that he'll come and get us. So the kid comes with me. Charlie, Bass – get out of here." The entirety of what Miles was saying ripped through me. He didn't think Bass would come back for me. Or at least he thought Bass and Connor would do something.

Still in a minor state of shock I grabbed my knapsack and bedroll from their position next to me. I slid silently from the back of the wagon; Bass didn't make a sound either as he disembarked. We shared a look before slipping into the opposite section of the woods from where Bass' man had emerged. Separately we had each found an old house only a few hundred meters from the plant in this direction. When he told me about it I had laughed. We had literally missed each other by minutes when we were scouting. It was the perfect place to lay low. The small clearing around the house must have once been clear, but it had been reclaimed by nature long ago. The paint had once been red I think; most of it was peeled, exposing the graying weathered wood beneath it. The house was surrounded by huge bushes of bright pink flowers, the smell of which enveloped me as we neared. The smell mixed with the hot grassy smell that was always in the air here. There was a slight wind moving across the plain. We entered the house quickly, clearing each room before moving to the cellar. Staying in the storm cellar for a couple months almost made dank dark basements seem almost homey.

One good thing about cellars is that it seems to be where everyone kept their store of extra food that wouldn't spoil. With our rushed takeoff he probably hadn't been able to grab extra food and the meager store that I had definitely wouldn't be able to feed both of us. Gingerly, I twisted the lid jar of something from a crate in one of the back rooms, making my way back to the front room where Bass stood, securing the door. The smell of pickles wafted from the jar as the seal broke and the lid came off. I breathed it in, sniffing for any oddities – rot or mold – before offering it to Bass. He took the first one from the jar, making a face after he popped it into his mouth. Unable to stop myself I giggled. "What?" He shook his head while he swallowed, "They're just kind of vinegar-y. They've been pickling a long time." I laughed at him before eating one myself. He was right about them being strongly flavored, but they weren't rotten and that was good enough for us.

We sat at the base of the steps, eating pickles until the small jar was gone. "We should sleep in the furthest room. That way if someone finds us we have more of a warning," Bass said to me between bites of pickle. I shrugged. "Unless they try to burn us alive." A surprised laugh pulled itself from him; he shook his head slightly. "Geez Charlie. I guess if they try that I'll make you wriggle your ass through that window there." He smiled, pulling another pickle from the jar with one hand and the other pointing to a window through the door to the back room. I returned his smile.

"So why do you think Miles wanted to go with Connor?" I was fishing. I knew I was. Worse, he did too. I knew that the second it came out of my mouth. He wrapped his arm around me. I laid my head on his shoulder, accepting the reassurance. "He didn't. He's been avoiding you for some reason and there was no way he'd trust Connor to come get him if shit went worse. And he was probably worried that Connor and I would plot incessantly if he left us alone for too long. It just comes down to trust." I felt Bass shrug. My body had gone cold when he mentioned Miles avoiding me. I had assumed that Miles had told him the truth of my paternity at some point. Fear clawed through me. How was he going to react when he found out?

He must of felt me tense, his arm squeezed me in a partial hug and when I looked up at him he looked concerned. I shook off his arm and stood, pacing back and forth in front of him a few times before stopping, wringing my hands. "About Miles... so turns out he and my mom had a thing before I was born." Bass nodded. I tamped down the slight annoyance I felt at his lack of surprise. I can't believe he knew and didn't tell me. He didn't seem to fully understand what I meant though. "I mean, he and mom had an affair _nine months_ before I was born." The look on his face morphed from confusion to understanding to shock almost faster than I could track it. "Miles is- Miles is you father?" His voice was quiet, his face a cross between disbelief and nervousness.

The fear that had been fluttering through my stomach turned ice cold and dropped, my mouth dried, tears collected in my eyes. I nodded. I didn't want him to shut me out because of Miles. For fucks' sake Miles had shut me out because of Miles. I didn't think I could handle someone else doing it. Not waiting for him to respond I turned around so I could let my tears fall. My shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. I felt despair creating a hole inside me, eating everything inside. He was going to pick Miles.

My fears were temporarily assuaged when I felt his arms wind around me from behind. Gently he turned me around. He held me tightly to him for a moment before pulling back. His hands cupped my face, wiping my tears away. I took a shaky breath, as deep as I could. "Charlie. I'm not going to leave you. I'll admit it wasn't quite what I expected," he broke off to a bitter laugh. "But just because Miles and I are... friends... again doesn't mean being with you is going to stop that. And if for some reason it does then maybe Miles and I weren't as close as we thought we were."

I laughed then, relief coursing through me. Bass wouldn't leave me. There had been a hesitation when he was talking about his relationship with Miles but at that moment I didn't care. He wasn't going to leave. I wrapped my arms around his middle tightly. We stayed like that until we were both steady again.

We pulled apart slowly, not wanting to fully disengage. Bass reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the back room. I busied myself laying out our bedrolls so close they were touching while Bass went through the store of jars. The sound of a seal popping echoed through the still room and I turned expectantly. I crossed the room to where Bass was standing, tasting the contents of the second jar. When I moved to grab some of whatever was in the jar Bass moved it away from me, giving me a look that told me to wait my turn. He pulled a chunk of dark red fruit from the jar, holding it out for me.

I'm pretty sure he meant for me to take it with my fingers, but I was slightly miffed that he thought he could feed me. I grabbed his wrist, taking him fingers in my mouth, closing around both them in the cherry. I lightly sucked at the cherry in his fingers while freeing it from his grip with my tongue. "Charlotte." He breathed it out, begging me to keep going, warning me that I should stop if I didn't want this to go any farther. I wrested the cherry free, holding it with my tongue as I leaned my head back, letting his fingers slip from my mouth with a wet smack. I chewed the cherry, which had probably seen better days, as I looked up at him with a challenge in my eyes.

I found myself in his arms, his tongue exploring my mouth. He started walking me backwards towards the bedrolls. I ran my hand down his shoulders, my fingertips exploring him. Almost of their own accord, they slid to his pecs and then down to the taut abs that had been taunting me since I had first recognized my attraction to him. I felt his hand slide down my back, resting on my ass, then his fingers were digging in. He ground against me, a moan pulled itself from my throat as a groan sounded itself from his. We finally stumbled next to the bedrolls. He just fell, putting himself on the bottom and making sure his head hit the makeshift pillow. I rolled my hips on top of his, eager to finish what we had just started.


End file.
